Zoop Cracks Her Fics
by Zoop
Summary: Total Crack!fic. A peek into the 'green room' of the Zoop's Lord of the Rings stories. Cast members lounging and hanging out. They're just as bored as you are, waiting for an update to their stories. Come by and have a drink. Gundshau mixes a mean Slippery Nipple. Rated for language. COMPLETE... for now. ;)


**A/N:** Just messing around. I promise I'm actively thinking about where to go with everyone. A few spoilers here, but not many. I hope it gives a laugh or two. :)

* * *

Zoop's _Lord of the Rings_ cast green room is not green. It has wood paneling on the walls of a rather darkly-stained, rough-hewn variety, attempting rather inadequately to imitate a medieval-style tavern. So the cast members feel more at home. Doesn't really work. The only amenities this retreat offers is a bartender and privacy rooms for the randier members to get shit out of their systems while they wait for Zoop to get them laid. For the first time or again, whichever.

Tanith and Ûnran are in one of those rooms now. Thankfully, the walls are pretty thick.

Over in the corner, there's a group huddled around a table. Maybe you recognize them when you glance over. Morkoth is the largest one and eyes the one opposite him suspiciously. Ghrudur scratches his chin in frustration, staring at his bench. Leaning back in a chair, Baan stares at the ceiling. Rukhtorû isn't even paying attention to them; his gaze points across the room at another huddle around the casting board.

"Throw something down, for fuck's sake," Morkoth growls.

"Don't rush me," Ghrudur mumbles.

"Just pick one and toss it," Baan snaps without looking.

"Do you not have a basic?" Morkoth sighs.

"I got _three_," Ghrudur mutters. "Don't know which one to use." He glances at the card Morkoth played earlier. Sighing, he rumbles an exasperated _fuck_ and flips a Sneasel onto the table.

"That's banned!" Morkoth roars, nearly coming across the table. "What the fuck's _that_ doing in your deck?"

"Since when?" Ghrudur snaps. Baan's attention is finally back on the game. Even Rukh quits staring at his fellow cast member's ass and turns back around.

"Saw it on Wikipedia, you fucker," Morkoth barks. "Not legal for tournament play."

Rolling his eyes, Ghrudur growls, "This ain't a tournament, asshole. Suck it up."

"Let'im play it, Mork," Baan sighs. "You can fuck his ass with an evolution. Serve him right."

"That ain't funny," Ghrudur snaps, glaring at Baan. Baan just grins.

Rukh shakes his head and goes back to staring at Romana.

Over by the call board, Romana, oblivious to Rukh's eyes locked on her bottom, rests a sympathetic hand on Lynn's shoulder. The woman is swollen and retaining water. She's pissed. The casting sheet does not amuse her.

"I have been _pregnant_ for a fucking _year_," she seeths. "What is _this_ shit?"

"At least you're on the board," Romana shrugs. "Could be worse."

"Yeah," Azûr pipes up behind her. "She's rewritten my backstory so many times, I don't know what the fuck the sequel's gonna be like." Snorting, he shakes his head. "Probably make me fuck that old biddy, knowin' her."

"Erna's all right," Lynn retorts defensively. "And she's not _that_ old."

"Don't matter anyhow," he shrugs, gesturing at the call sheet. "She's doin' one for _those_ fuckers. _Again_. And if I'm readin' this casting call right, there's gonna be a fourth before she ever gets to ours." Smirking at Lynn, he says, "Gonna be another year of haulin' that load around. Hope you're up to it."

"Fuck. You," she replies.

"Hey," Foshân asks the group at large, "what's a five letter word for 'altercation'?"

Several heads turn and call out in unison, "_Fight_."

Frowning down at the book lying open on the table in front of him, his face smooths and he says, "Oh, right." He carefully jots the letters into the boxes.

"Why am I on the cursed casting sheet?" Uglûk laments to no one in particular. "I _died_. Didn't I die? She doing _Walking Dead_ now?"

"Ain't no Orcs in _Walking Dead_," Nûrzgrat points out. "Maybe she's got plans for you, boy."

Uglûk glowers at Nûrzgrat. "I am not your _boy_." Smirking, he growls, "What, your woman bucked you off? Thought you were in room two."

Nûrzgrat raises an eyebrow. "I hope she makes you crawl for a whiteskin female and I get to watch it."

Snorting and rolling his eyes, Uglûk stomps off to the bar.

Eoforhild is out of makeup and seated at the bar with Sandy. Neither do more than glance at Uglûk as he grabs a stool several yards away and nods to the bartender. "Oi, what sorta meat's on the menu?" Uglûk barks. Sandy snickers.

"Does he know?" Eoforhild asks in a subdued whisper. Sandy shakes her head.

"Let it be a surprise," she grins mischievously. "How're things? Looking forward to it?"

Shrugging, Eoforhild sips her brandy. "It will take a lot of these for me to 'look forward' to it."

Sandy squeezes Eoforhild's shoulder reassuringly. "It won't be so bad. Nicer than a cave, anyway."

The woman huffs in disbelief and takes another drink. "Where are the kids?"

Sighing, Sandy gestures to an ornately decorated door near the entrance. "In the playroom. Thank god Zoop's got kids of her own. She picks the best babysitters."

"Who'd she get?"

"Erna and Mae," Sandy replies. "Good with the little ones, those two. Ashmau's teething, so it's a nightmare." She gulps down her own shot. "Don't envy the woman at all."

"Raz in there?" Eoforhild asks, arching her brow.

Sandy sags and grimaces. "Yeah. He's pissed about it. All of a sudden he doesn't want to hang out with the babies. Probably because of _that_." She points at one of the few couches dragged in from who knows where, looking quite like it was acquired at the end of the school year, discarded on the curb by a fraternity. It is currently occupied by Gwen and Thakûf who are exploring the ways in which they can be all over each other without actually disrobing in front of their elders.

"Grew up faster than Raz?" Eoforhild suggests with a slight smile.

"_Way_ faster," Sandy nods. "Raz hasn't even figured out what _else_ his dick is for yet." Shuddering over the recollection, she adds in an undertone, "Thank god."

"Mind if I join you?" Maukum butts in with a smirk.

Sandy looks him up and down with distaste. "Aren't you supposed to be in Shithead's Corner?"

"Gets lonely in there," he growls. "Zoop keeps killing us off."

"Darwinism," Sandy replies sagely. "Get used to it. Now bugger off."

"What about Faelur?" Eoforhild asks curiously.

Maukum snorts derisively. "We're not the same _kind_ of shithead, evidently. He's got nothing to say." His eyes scan the small groups scattered about. "Think _she'll_ talk to me?" he asks, nodding across the room.

Sandy straightens and looks over the heads of the _Pok__é__mon_ players at the largest table, then settles down and chuckles. "You go right ahead, Maukum. If Eafrida doesn't kick your balls into your throat, Baan'll make you eat them. Same result, either way. And might be fun to watch. Have at it."

"Why don't you go see if Shagal would be interested?" Eoforhild suggests slyly over the rim of her snifter. "She's worn Fulak out for the day. Last I saw him, he was having a lie down and an ice pack."

Glaring at the women's snickering, he puffs himself up a bit. "Wouldn't have her anyway. Ugly, crazy bitch."

"Yeah, but she's got a _vag_, dude," Sandy reminds him. "And she's not afraid to use it. If you think you're up to it."

Eoforhild shakes her head. "She'll want it all, you know. She tends to be a bit... cross if left unsatisfied."

"Might beat you up," Sandy agrees. "So... a fuck _and_ a fight. Go get'er, tiger." She shoves him a little more roughly than necessary in the direction of the Orcess.

"Asshole," Eoforhild mutters into her drink.

"So where's Aandar?" Sandy asks.

"In the bathroom," Eoforhild replies.

Smirking, Sandy says, "Been in there awhile, hasn't he?"

"They've got magazines," she says with a shrug.

Maukum's over-eager feet send him past where Eafrida and Fleetfoot are seated in a booth, enjoying little fruity drinks with umbrellas. They both glare at him unwelcomingly as he blows by unaware. Since he seems to be aimed for the dark corner, they go back to their conversation.

"That was mean as hell, if you ask me," Eafrida says consolingly.

"The blood pack gave me a god damned rash, too," Fleetfoot laments.

"Where's Ashûk?"

"He's in our room all embarrassed," Fleetfoot replies with a sigh. "He can't wear clothes in case Zoop surprises us with another chapter, and he doesn't really want to be sitting naked in a roomful of Uruk-hai. Paranoid. Like anyone cares."

Eafrida discreetly eyes Fleetfoot's barely-concealing fur vest and short kilt. "Doesn't appear to be troubling _you_."

Fleetfoot glances down and grins. "I'm a wild woman."

"That you are, Fleet," Eafrida nods appreciatively, clinking the woman's glass with her own. "That you are."

The relative calm of the room is interrupted by a roar from the dark corner, and Maukum scurries out of it with his arms protectively over his head. Shagal pelts him with Cheetos and barks, "Go find someone else for that pathetic prick, Shorty!"

"You're a mean one, Shagal," her sister comments mildly.

"Shut it, Shaataz," Shagal snaps as she settles back into the booth. "You're just a couple chapters away from your big show. Don't fuck it up, you hear?"

Shaataz rolls her eyes. "Won't be a big deal, I promise you. I didn't even get face time in _Hookup_. Everyone probably thinks I regularly hallucinate, thanks to mum."

Sighing, Shagal leans back and rests her head against the paneled wall. "Lookin' forward to a bath. That'll be a good scene."

"You just want your tits hanging out," Shaataz grumbles. "It's for Zoop's friend, you know. Not to make _you_ smell any better."

"Take it where I can get it," Shagal shrugs.

The playroom door opens and Razkaar pokes his head into the 'green' room.

"Oi! Outta juice boxes in here!" he shouts to be heard over the general noise of so many conversations.

Nûrzgrat, who is closest, narrows his eyes. The boy's clothes are soaked with fruit punch. "You usin' them things as squirt guns again?"

"They ain't pouches," Razkaar retorts defensively. "Don't hafta respect'em."

"Uh huh," Nûrzgrat growls sarcastically.

"Hang on," Brytta says, shooting Nûrzgrat an exasperated look. She heads over to the bar and flags down the bartender. "Hey, the kids are thirsty. At least, that's the excuse. Got any more juice boxes back there?"

Gundshau huffs and grumbles under his breath, then heads into the back room. Damn kids have been blowing through the juice boxes like nobody's business. In the storeroom, he finds Nymhriel at her inventory work. Clearly she had a moment of consternation over something, or just couldn't find the pen, because a huge pile of papers is on the floor where she likely swept them off the desk.

"Takin' another crate to the kids' room," he tells her as he heads down the aisle.

"Another one?" Nymhriel asks with surprise. "They've been through three already! Two of those kids are supposed to be on bottles, for crying out loud." Shaking her head, she marks a tick in the row for juice boxes. "I shudder to imagine the state of that bathroom, or the line to use it."

"They ain't drinkin'em, near as I can tell," Gundshau replies as he comes back with a large box in his burly arms. "Wish Zoop'd quit takin' all her kids' old toys to Goodwill and send'em down _here_."

"Indeed," Nymhriel nods. "I peeked in there last night after the tikes went to bed and there aren't many. Plenty of plastic swords, though. That keeps Raz and Osgar occupied."

"Aye," Gundshau chuckles. "Aelfled don't know whether to join'em or swoon over the winner, most times. Make a good shieldmaiden, she will."

"Well, I do hope she keeps her sights set on Osgar," Nymhriel replies. "Raz seems to me to just be waiting for Ilsa to grow up. I don't think he'll be interested in anyone else, and it would just break Aelfled's little heart."

"He's a good boy," Gundshau nods. "Won't lead her astray."

"Gundshau," she says quietly, "why are we still here?"

He shrugs and says, "We got jobs?"

"No, I mean... our story ended, didn't it?"

He frowns and looks at her. "Maybe it didn't quite, eh?"

They share a hopeful look and a warm smile, then Gundshau heads out into the 'green' room.

Brytta takes the box off his hands and delivers them to the antsy Razkaar in the doorway. "_Drink_ these, dammit. Don't use them as guns."

"Was Ilsa's idea," he grumbles. Taking the box, he returns to the playroom and shuts the door.

"Ah, what the fuck is this?" Hornhûr growls angrily, running his clawed finger down the casting sheet. "It's been fucking _months_. I don't even know anymore if she's gonna kill me or not, and now she's lookin' for more Orcs to fuck with?"

Brytta peeks over his shoulder. "Who the hell is Shagrat?"

"Fuck if I know," Hornhûr grumbles. "What I wanna know is, what's she want with a _golug_ lady, eh? And look at this... she's gonna drop a couple more Sandies on some poor bastards. I hope that shit ain't in _my_ fic line."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Lynn snaps sarcastically. "Like we had a choice. And what do you think Sam is, huh?"

"Yeah, but... that ain't the same," he shrugs.

"No, it was the opposite," Brytta points out, trying to keep a straight face. "_You_ got dropped on one of _them_. Speaking of, where's Dargum and Biz?"

"Practicing," Lynn replies with a smirk and gestures toward the door to room six near the back. "She is _quite_ the Orc fanatic."

"That poor bastard," Brytta says sympathetically, shaking her head.

"_And_ she has lube."

"Lucky bitch," Brytta sighs.

"All right, people!" Zoop says, having entered the room with a flourish. She claps her hands to get everyone's attention. "I need the cast of _A Little R and R_ in studio B. Someone pry Burzash and Mog off their girlfriends; they're not supposed to have satisfied grins on their faces for several chapters yet."

"Right," Rukh says, handing his deck off to Ûnran and stretching. The younger Uruk eagerly takes the deck and starts sifting through the cards to assess the build.

"Hey, what about us?" Tanith asks. She's still a bit disheveled from the 'scene discussions' in room three.

"I'll get to you guys, I promise," Zoop says pleadingly. "Look, folks, I'm really sorry there are so many of you, and you're all kind of bored most of the time. I'll get your stories told, I promise."

"Meh, no worries," Romana says, punching Zoop's shoulder as she heads for studio B. "Gotta strike while the iron's hot, right? No sweat."

"Speak for yourself," Lynn mutters as she eases herself into a comfortable chair.

"That everyone?" Zoop says, counting heads as the cast of _A Little R and R_ files out of the 'green' room. "Okay. Love you guys, really. I'll be back for you, don't worry." Then she shuts the door and gets back to work.


End file.
